


You Know That I'm Falling (And I Don't Know What To Say)

by Kapua



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: AU, F/F, Multi-chapter PWP, art teacher!tissaia, but not a whole lot, i mean there's minimal plot, model!yennefer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:34:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25802941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kapua/pseuds/Kapua
Summary: “I guarantee that she's interested.""Oh really?" Tissaia asks. "And how do you know?""Because she's staring over here like she wants to eat you alive," Rita retorts smugly. To her credit she only snickers a little when Tissaia's head whips around to check, but Tissaia doesn't even hear her. Because Rita is right—the mystery woman is watching her with dark, hungry eyes that make Tissaia shiver."She's probably looking at lots of people that way," Tissaia says, trying to convince herself as much as Rita, but she knows it's a lie.Apparently so does Rita, because she just laughs and says, "No she's not—she's heading this way, and it looks like she's a woman on a mission."AKA Tissaia and Yennefer meet in a club, but things don’t go according to plan. Tissaia has resigned herself to never seeing the gorgeous mystery brunette again, until a familiar face shows up to model for the figure drawing class she teaches...the NUDE figure drawing class she teaches. What has she gotten herself into?
Relationships: Tissaia de Vries/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 79
Kudos: 229





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt involving Tissaia being an art teacher and Yen showing up as a nude model for a figure class. Except then it ballooned into a slightly larger story in my head lol, so this is no longer a oneshot. Enjoy!
> 
> ***@lovefoodmusic on tumblr (queenofhearts on ao3) made a gorgeous mood board to go along with this fic! Included here for your viewing pleasure, but def drop her a line if you're on tumblr to show your appreciation :)

Tissaia sighs as she sips at her drink. The club scene is not really her thing, and she'd made the mistake of letting Margarita cajole her out for a Friday night even though she should know better by now. It's all a bit noisy for her taste, and she feels out of place among the flirting and dancing on full display. She's never been the bold type, at least not when it comes to romance or sex, and watching everyone around her is just another reminder of the fact that she'll likely go home alone at the end of the night.

She glances around and can't help but chuckle when she sees Rita flirting with a woman along the wall, and the blonde wiggles her eyebrows encouragingly at Tissaia when she sees her looking. Tissaia shakes her head and continues perusing the other patrons at the club. There are plenty of attractive people, but she's just debating whether to get another drink or make up an excuse to leave early when she sees quite possibly the most beautiful woman on the face of the earth. 

She's younger than Tissaia, though it's hard to say by exactly how much. Dark raven hair falls in loose curls around her shoulders, and she has large eyes that look almost violet in the club's lighting. She's sitting at a low table with two other women—a blonde and a curly-haired brunette—and Tissaia feels an irrational surge of jealousy before she notices that they're wrapped around each other and only half paying attention to the violet-eyed goddess next to them. 

Tissaia is far enough away at the bar that she can get away with staring, and she lets her eyes wander down the length of the woman's body. From what she can see she's wearing a black top with jeans that are so tight they might as well be painted on, and when the woman crosses her legs Tissaia gets a glimpse of a blood-red strappy heel under the table. 

"Are you going to sit here and eye-fuck her all night, or are you going to go introduce yourself?"

Tissaia jumps at the voice in her ear and glares at Rita, who's managed to wedge herself next to Tissaia at the bar.

"First, I am _not_ eye-fucking her," Tissaia grumbles, wrinkling her nose a little at the crude language. "And second, she's way out of my league. There's no way she'd be interested in an old bag like me."

Rita raises a brow. "Tissaia, darling, you are quite possibly the farthest thing from an old bag I've ever seen. I mean yes, you're a year older than me, so you're old in that sense, but I guarantee that she's interested."

"Oh really?" Tissaia asks. "And how do you know?"

"Because she's staring over here like she wants to eat you alive," Rita retorts smugly. To her credit, she only snickers a little when Tissaia's head whips around to check, but Tissaia doesn't even hear her. Because Rita was right—the mystery woman is watching her with dark, hungry eyes that make Tissaia shiver. The woman doesn't look away, just meets Tissaia's gaze with a faint smirk, and even though it galls her Tissaia is the one to drop her eyes first. She's not usually so unsure of herself, but the way the woman stares at her makes her feel acutely as if she's leaped straight into the deep end of the pool without knowing how to swim.

"She's probably looking at lots of people that way," Tissaia says, trying to convince herself as much as Rita, but she knows it's a lie. 

Apparently so does Rita, because she just laughs and says, "No she's not—she's heading this way, and it looks like she's a woman on a mission."

The blonde disappears into the crowd before Tissaia can say anything, and then a second later she feels a warm hand brush against the small of her back.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

Tissaia turns and finds herself mere inches away from the woman, and she's even more stunning close up. She can't help her eyes wandering up and down the woman's body, and she finds the woman smirking at her knowingly when her eyes finally make it back up to her face. 

"Or perhaps a dance, instead?"

Tissaia finds herself nodding, letting the woman take her hand and lead her out to the dance floor. Her brain catches up to her actions as a new song starts, and she panics a little. Dancing has never been her strong suit—she's too much in her head, too self-conscious and overly aware of her body—and she's suddenly terrified she's going to embarrass herself and ruin everything. 

But then light hands grip her waist, spinning her around so that a warm body can mold itself to her back, and all conscious thought leaves her brain. She's too lost in the press of soft curves, the way that she can feel hot puffs of air against the back of her neck, to do anything but let her hips follow the driving bass of the song. The other woman is a few inches taller—not a lot, but enough that the height difference means Tissaia slots almost perfectly against her, and they quickly find a rhythm together.

One of the woman's hands slides around to press at her stomach, and the other grips at Tissaia's hipbone with a hint of possessiveness. It's divine, and Tissaia hums as the woman's thumb slides over the slim strip of exposed skin where her top has ridden up above the waist of her jeans. The beat of the music shifts again, becoming a darkly sensual swirl of bass that settles low in her belly as she grinds back against the woman. 

She feels the barest press of lips at the back of her neck and reaches up to tangle her fingers in the woman's hair, tugging her closer. Soft lips transform into a heady scrape of teeth that's quickly soothed by a tongue laving at the skin, and Tissaia moans. She's never done this before—not like this, practically begging a complete stranger to fuck her on the dance floor—but she doesn't care. All she knows is that she needs _more_ , wants desperately to get to touch every inch of the woman behind her until they're both absolutely wrecked.

When the song changes again, Tissaia spins in the woman's arms. She slips a thigh between the brunette's legs, relishing the brief gasp it elicits before she surges forward to swallow it with a kiss. She's not usually so forward, but something about this woman seems to make her willing to do things she would normally never even consider, and right now that means kissing the brunette like her life depends on it. 

Every inch of her body lights up as the woman kisses back instantly, one hand coming up to the back of Tissaia's neck to pull her closer. Tissaia feels like her knees might buckle when a hot tongue licks into her mouth, but instead she just presses even closer, letting her hands fall to the other woman's ass and squeezing at the firm flesh there. She feels the woman growl into the kiss, hips grinding down against Tissaia's leg, and then the brunette is pulling away to stare into Tissaia's eyes. 

"Come with me?"

Tissaia's mind hits the gutter as she promptly imagines those same words being uttered in a very different context, and she bites her lips to contain her moan. She nods, not trusting herself to speak, and lets the woman lead her off the dance floor. They wind through the crowd until she's being pulled out the back of the bar and into a small alley. She feels a brief flash of anxiety over the fact that someone could walk past and see them, but she decides she doesn't care when soft lips cover her own and a warm body presses her against the brick wall. 

The contrast of the hard wall at her back and delicious curves at her front makes her mind go blank, and Tissaia arches into the kiss with a whine. Her hands scrabble for purchase, slipping under the hem of the brunette's top to palm smooth skin that seems to go on for miles. She feels fingers flexing against her hips and reaches down to cover them with her own, guiding one of the brunette's hands up to her breast. The younger woman moans into the kiss and goes to work immediately, her fingers teasing at Tissaia's nipple through the thin material of her shirt and bra. 

For her part, Tissaia adjusts her stance so that she can press her thigh up against the other woman's center, and she smiles at the broken groan the action receives. Seconds later, however, her smile dissolves into an open-mouthed gasp as she feels strong fingers toying with the button of her pants.

The brunette breaks the kiss and leans forward, nipping at Tissaia's ear as she murmurs, "Can I touch you?"

Tissaia's heart melts a little and she nods, letting her head fall back against the bricks as she tries not to buck into the younger woman's hand. "Please."

She's unprepared for the speed with which the brunette manages to pop the button on her pants and slide the zipper down just far enough to be able to get her hand inside. And then there are fingers stroking along her clit, strong and hot and demanding in a way that has Tissaia keening within seconds.

"Inside," she gasps, "I want you inside."

The woman doesn't hesitate to follow orders, and Tissaia grinds down with a low groan as two fingers slide inside of her. She's so wet that there's barely enough friction to do anything more than tease her, and she bites her lip and pants, "Another." When a third finger joins the first two, the stretch is everything she wants, and she barely manages to hold back a cry at how good it feels. 

She slides her hands around to rest on the brunette's ass (and _god_ it's an incredible ass) to encourage her to grind down on Tissaia's thigh, and she can feel the heat radiating from the woman's center even through the material of their jeans. Just like on the dance floor, it doesn't take them long to find a rhythm that has every nerve ending in Tissaia's body crackling with need for release. 

The brunette is sliding herself along Tissaia's leg, little breathy moans falling from her lips as her hand works in the smaller woman's pants. It's fast and messy and glorious in a way that has Tissaia approaching the edge far more quickly than she anticipated, and her fingers claw at the brunette's shoulders for support. 

Sensing that Tissaia is close, the woman drops her head to mouth at Tissaia's neck, sucking and biting at the skin just above her collarbone. Tissaia feels the pressure about to snap and surges forward to kiss the brunette, one hand sliding around to knead at the younger woman's breast. She wants the brunette to get off with her, wants to feel what it's like for them to come apart at the seams wrapped in each other’s arms, wants to hear what it sounds like when the other woman tries to stay quiet because they're still in a _god damn alley_ where anyone could walk past and see them like this. 

It only takes a few more strokes of the talented fingers in her pants to bring Tissaia over, her whole body thrumming with pleasure as she grinds down to try to take as much of the woman's fingers inside as possible. The brunette follows her a few seconds later, hips losing any sense of rhythm as she ruts against Tissaia's leg before letting out a long groan, sinking her teeth into Tissaia's shoulder to muffle the sound as she comes.

There are a few moments of silence broken only by the sound of their breathing, and Tissaia's brain is just starting to spin, panic rising as she thinks _Oh my god, I just fucked a complete stranger in an alley, what the fuck do I do now_ when the brunette kisses her so sweetly and softly that it erases all thought from her mind. She hums into the kiss, savoring the slide of their lips and nipping at the other woman's bottom lip when they separate. 

The brunette looks thoroughly fucked—hair mussed, red lipstick smudged, eyes dark and wanting—and Tissaia is sure she doesn't look much better. She bites her lip and is just getting ready to ask if the brunette wants to come back to her place when she hears the sound of the door to the club opening. They spring apart as if scalded, and Tissaia does her pants up just as one of the club's bouncers rounds the corner. 

"Do either of you know a Sabrina or a Triss?"

The brunette nods warily. "Yeah. What of it?"

The bouncer rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. "Uh, there's been a bit of an incident inside. Can you come with me?"

Tissaia is already waving at her to go when the younger woman turns back to look at her apologetically. 

"Wait here," the brunette says, "I'll be right back, I swear." She follows the bouncer back into the club, casting a last longing look over her shoulder at Tissaia before she disappears inside, and Tissaia slumps against the wall. She straightens just as the door shuts behind them, mouth open to call out and ask for the woman's name, and she frowns when she realizes she's missed her chance.

She lasts all of two minutes before she starts to pace, her brain kicking into overdrive now that the brunette isn't here to distract her. All of the spiraling thoughts that she'd tamped down on—what if this was a quick fuck and the brunette didn't want anything else, what was the socially acceptable protocol after fucking a stranger in an alley, what was the best way of asking for a woman's name _after_ you'd fucked her—rise in her until they're all she can think about. And as the minutes slowly tick by, she begins to wonder if the brunette isn't going to come back at all. 

Tissaia glances at her watch and sees that it's been fifteen minutes since the younger woman left with the bouncer. She shivers and rubs her hands up and down her arms, the cool night air chilly now that she doesn't have another body draped over her. When her watch shows twenty minutes have passed, Tissaia decides to give up and cut her losses. 

She feels a bit pathetic as she heads back into the club, unable to help scanning the crowds for any sign of the brunette. When she comes up empty, she sighs and makes for the door. She's definitely not interested in anyone else after _that_ , and she fires off a quick text to let Rita know she's going home before hailing a cab. She strips her clothes off when she gets inside and throws herself onto her bed with a sigh. 

Her inner thighs still feel damp and sticky from her encounter with the mystery woman, and Tissaia resists the urge to touch herself. She's still worked up enough that it wouldn't be hard to get herself off again, but that feels like an extra level of pitiful since she knows she'd be picturing the younger woman the whole time. 

She buries her face in her pillow with a groan. This type of hookup is probably so routine to the mystery woman that it probably didn't register as more than a tiny blip for her, and here Tissaia is practically pining for her. It's stupid, and pitiful, and Tissaia shuts her eyes and wills sleep to come quickly. But as she drifts off, she can't help but dream of a very different ending of how the night might have gone in a different universe.

###

Tissaia wakes up the next morning feeling distinctly hungover. She grumbles to herself as she drags herself out of bed, cursing the fact that she has an early-afternoon class on Saturdays. She normally loves teaching, and it's a figure class, which is her favorite, but she doesn't particularly feel like dealing with a bunch of chatty students today. The memory of purple-black eyes staring hungrily at her form the night before is still too fresh, along with the sting of disappointment at being left in the alley.

But she is nothing if not responsible, and so she forces herself to brush her teeth, put on a clean white button-down and dark green trousers, and wrestle her hair into a messy braid. She can't quite muster the motivation to pin it into a bun like usual, so she leaves the braid swinging free down the center of her back and tries to ignore the curls that have come loose and frame her face. She'll probably regret it halfway through the class when she has to keep swiping them out of her eyes, but it seems like a small price to pay to not have to deal with it now. 

Her eyes feel a little gritty from the lack of sleep, and so she forgoes her contacts and grabs her glasses instead. Rita always tells her they make her look like a sexy librarian, which Tissaia thinks is ridiculous, but they're convenient and that's enough for her this morning. 

She curses under her breath when she looks in the mirror and sees a few dark hickeys on her neck, debating between buttoning her shirt all the way up or trying to cover them with foundation. In the end, she opts for a silk scarf, knotting it so that it rests inside the open collar of her shirt and hides the marks. 

She makes it out the door and to the studio with five minutes to spare. Well, technically she has thirty-five minutes to spare, but she counts herself as late if she's not in the building at least half an hour before her students. She flips the switch to turn the kettle on and straightens up the different easels around the room while she waits for the water to come to a boil. 

With a fresh cup of tea in hand and a pristine classroom ready for the afternoon, she feels more human than she has since waking up. She meanders over to the desk in the corner where she keeps relevant paperwork tucked and pulls out the scheduling sheet to confirm which model will be in today. The name is unfamiliar— _Yennefer Vengerberg_ —but this model agency has always been reliable so she's not worried about it. It might even be nice for her students (and her, by extension) to have a fresh figure to draw. 

At ten-till her students start arriving, drifting around the room and talking as they make their way to their easels. When it's a few minutes after the hour and there's no sign of the model, Tissaia frowns but decides to begin anyways. She can do a bit of lecture first in case the model is just running late—there shouldn't be traffic or anything on a Saturday though, and she makes a mental note to inform the agency about the tardiness. 

"All right, everyone," she says, waving a hand to quiet the students. "We'll begin with a brief lecture today while we wait for our model to arrive—"

"I'm here!"

Tissaia turns as the door to the room flies open and a blur of a young woman tumbles through it. She's digging in her bag, not looking up, as she hastily says, "Sorry, I'm so sorry for being late, it was a bit of a shitshow of a morning—"

But Tissaia isn't listening to the woman's excuses. No. Her brain has gone entirely blank, every fiber of her being simultaneously filled with hope and dread. Because she _recognizes_ that voice, knows the exact texture of the strands of silky dark hair that are currently tied up in a messy bun, can recall the salty tang of the skin over the woman's clavicle. 

It's _her_ , the mystery woman from the night before, and Tissaia is unsure whether this is a blessing or a curse.

Before she can decide, the woman—Yennefer—finally looks up and sees Tissaia, and her mouth drops open. Realizing that whatever is likely to come out of the younger woman's mouth is _not_ something she wants her students to be privy to, Tissaia cuts her off before she can speak.

"There's a room you can change in through that door over there. I'll check with you in a moment to make sure you're set before we begin."

The dismissal is clear, and she sees the wheels turning in Yennefer's brain as she tries to put all the pieces together. Thankfully, she nods and hefts her bag over her shoulder before disappearing through the door. 

Tissaia fights to maintain a neutral expression as she turns back to her students. 

"As I was saying..."

The lecture is rote and from memory, it's one she's done a thousand times before. Which is good—great, even—because Tissaia needs every available brain cell to try to figure out what the _fuck_ she's going to do next. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The figure drawing class continues....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuing the figure class scene won by a small landslide in the votes lol, so here ya go!

Tissaia takes a deep breath as she stands outside the door leading into the side room where the models change. She knows she needs to go in there to check on Yennefer before proceeding with the class, but she doesn't know what to say. It's bad enough that she's still embarrassed over the night before (and hurt, if she's honest, about being left in the alley), and in any other situation she might be less concerned about running into the younger woman, but  _ this _ ? In the classroom? And as a nude model, no less?

It's all a confusing jumble in her head, and she purses her lips as she tries to sort through her thoughts. She decides that her first priority remains the same that it always is, with a figure class: make sure that the model is comfortable and fully consenting throughout. 

Granted, that's a bit more complicated when she's had said model's hands three fingers deep inside of her, and knows what it sounds like when the model comes, but the principle of the thing doesn't change. If anything it becomes more important, she muses, since Yennefer might not want to continue with the class now that she knows Tissaia is the teacher.

So there's that. She'll do what she always does. Just a simple check-in, and they'll go from there. 

"Ms. Vengerberg?" She knocks on the door and gets an immediate response.

"Come in!" 

One more deep breath to steel herself, and then Tissaia opens the door....and her neat, tidy plan disintegrates as she sees Yennefer in nothing but a silky floral robe. The hem hits several inches above the knee, leaving a sinful amount of leg on full display, and the front of the robe is barely held together by the tie. It makes Tissaia's mouth go dry and she breathes in through her nose to try to force herself to look away. It's a mistake, as she promptly gets a whiff of a delicate fragrance—something with lilac, and a sweeter scent she can't place offhand.

"Tissaia?" 

She glances up and sees Yennefer watching her almost hesitantly. 

"That's your name, right? I mean, I saw it on the assignment when I took it, but I didn't know..." she trails off and looks almost shy before she shakes her head and continues. "I didn't know it was you."

"No, well, you wouldn't have," Tissaia replies with a raised brow. "Seeing as how we just met last night."

Yennefer chokes on her breath at the words, and Tissaia sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. 

"I'm sorry, Ms. Vengerberg. I had no idea this would happen. My main concern is whether you're comfortable continuing."

"Just Yennefer, please," she's gently corrected. "And continuing?"

"With the class," Tissaia clarifies. "I don't want to put you in an awkward position or do anything that might push your boundaries—"

"I'm good," Yennefer interrupts her. "I can do this. I just...It just caught me by surprise when I walked in and saw you." Tissaia tries to keep her expression neutral, but something must slip through because the younger woman takes a tentative step towards her. "Can I explain? About last night? I didn't mean—"

This time it's Tissaia who cuts her off with a sharp shake of her head. "Don't. Please. Let's just keep this professional." She doesn't think her heart can handle being rejected twice by the woman, no matter how kind she's sure the rejection would be. Yennefer nods reluctantly.

"Right. Professional. I can do that."

"Good," Tissaia says briskly. "So, this is their eighth week. All of the students should be respectful and know how to conduct themselves. Are there any boundaries you have regarding poses?" It's a question she always asks, knowing that even people who sign up to model often have something they would rather not expose. But Yennefer just shrugs. 

"No. Though I'll let you know if that changes at any point during the session."

"Good," Tissaia says again, then realizes she probably sounds like a broken record. "Okay. Shall we go out, then?" Yennefer blinks at her with a strange expression and Tissaia winces when she replays the words in her mind. "To the classroom, I mean."

"Lead the way," Yennefer replies. Tissaia schools her features before they re-enter the classroom and goes over to her easel. Yennefer takes her place in the center of the room and undoes the tie on her robe. In the split second before the silky material drops to the floor, Tissaia has the abrupt realization that she did  _ not _ think this through. How the fuck is she supposed to focus on anything when her fantasy woman from the night before is about to be naked in front of her?

And then the robe is gone, and Tissaia thinks she might shrivel up and die. Or accost Yennefer in front of her students. One or the other. 

"We'll do a few warm-up poses," she calls, and she's irrationally pleased that her voice comes out only slightly strangled. "Yennefer, your choice."

She tries to remember how to breathe as the model strikes a loose-limbed pose and gazes over her shoulder. The long lines of her body are absolutely flawless, and this is quite possibly one of the hardest things Tissaia has ever had to deal with. Figure drawing is normally just another day in the studio, a chance to practice technical skills and test out new techniques while her students work. But now, having Yennefer as the model makes it into an entirely different experience. 

It's impossible for her to look at the younger woman's body with an objective, detached gaze—there's no way to see it as just another object to recreate with charcoal or ink, because it's  _ her.  _ Tissaia can't help but let her gaze wander down Yennefer's body (she tells herself it's not creepy or perverted, because she's technically  _ supposed _ to be carefully looking at the model), and she feels an uncomfortable warmth in the pit of her stomach. The younger woman really is stunning, and Tissaia is suddenly overcome with the desire to try to capture even a fraction of the beauty before her. 

She picks up a stick of charcoal and begins sketching, sweeping strokes quickly forming the shape of the younger woman. The minutes pass in a blur, and Tissaia has to try much harder than usual to remember to call position changes for the remainder of the warm-up. When it's time to settle in for a longer pose, she clears her throat.

"There's a chair—" she points to a small wooden chair with a high back and cushioned seat— "just there. We've been working on seated poses, if you don't mind."

Yennefer grabs the chair obligingly, dragging it into the center of the room. She turns the chair so that the back of it is facing Tissaia and then straddles the seat, crossing her arms on the back of the chair and resting her head on them. Tissaia feels a flush start to creep up her whole body as Yennefer stares at her, arching a questioning eyebrow.

"How's this?"

"Perfect," Tissaia mumbles, breaking eye contact to fumble with the paper on her easel. She glances up and  _ god _ , Yennefer is watching her with the faintest hint of a smirk, like she knows exactly how much she's affecting the older woman. Tissaia smooths a fresh sheet of paper down and takes a deep breath to try to ground herself. She can do this. She's a professional, this is not the first time she's seen a naked woman. 

Her eyes flick back up to Yennefer, and she lets her eyes wander the younger woman's face. She looks softer in the light of day, her face bare of the heavy makeup she'd been wearing at the club. It makes Tissaia's heart clench painfully in her chest, and her gaze drifts further down before quickly darting back up. A professional she may be, but she still can't bring herself to look too closely at the shadow between Yennefer's legs, the memory of how badly she'd wanted to touch the younger woman there the night before nearly overwhelming her.

Tissaia decides to walk around the room to distract herself and check on how her students are doing. It helps, in that it gets her away from Yennefer's knowing eyes, but has the unexpected side effect of making her look at sketches of the younger woman from literally every angle. She frowns a little as she points out spots where a student has gotten the lines of Yennfer's spine just a little off, or the bend of her knee. The student that's drawn Yennefer from the side has done a remarkable job of getting the curve of her ass right, and Tissaia feels a little woozy as she looks between the drawing and the model to check how they've done at capturing the younger woman's breasts. 

By the time she makes it back to her easel, she feels overheated, and it's making her stubborn and just a bit irritable. This time, when she glances at Yennefer and finds the younger woman staring back at her, she doesn't look away. No, instead she drags her eyes down the model's body and makes a show of biting her lip as she picks up her charcoal. Two can play at this game, and she's suddenly determined not to back down. 

She works quickly and quietly for the next fifteen minutes, eyes flicking between Yennefer and the drawing. And slowly, the irritation ebbs into begrudging awe that's shot through with barely-contained lust. Because the younger woman is even more stunning than Tissaia remembers from the night before, and she doesn't intend to waste the opportunity to look to her heart's content. 

It's doing absolutely nothing for the ache between her legs to examine every exquisite detail of the younger woman's body and catalog it in her mind when there's no chance she'll be able to touch—when Yennefer couldn't even bother to come back and find her at the club. That knowledge is the one thing that allows her to retain some semblance of control. She repeats to herself over and over that the younger woman is clearly uninterested, that they'll finish this class and then part ways and likely never see each other again, and she'll bury the memory of the night before deep down where she won't have to acknowledge it. 

But it's hard to maintain her composure with the way Yennefer is looking at her. Tissaia can't help picturing what it would be like to trace the lines of the younger woman's body with her tongue, following the bend of her clavicle down and over the swells of her breasts (and  _ god _ , Tissaia knows exactly how good Yennefer's breasts feel under her hand, and she can only imagine how much better it would be without their clothes in the way), down further and further to the patch of dark curls that she can just barely make out. She wonders what Yennefer tastes like, how she prefers to be touched. The thoughts racing through her mind are entirely distracting and wholly inappropriate for the situation, and she clears her throat as she glances at the clock. Time left for one more extended pose.

"A final change, if you're willing," she says, meeting Yennefer's eyes. And she knows it's not her imagination that the younger woman's mouth barely ticks up at the corners in a faint smirk before she moves. Yennefer pulls the chair around so that it's facing Tissaia and sits back down, arching her back and raising her arms above her head as she widens her stance. The whole pose is inflammatory, and the way that Yennefer's eyes seem to spark suggests that it's very much intentional. 

It's stupidly impractical—she's sure Yennefer's arms will be aching within the first two minutes—but it's also highly effective at what she presumes is its intended purpose. In this new position, Tissaia is confronted with every inch of the younger woman on full display. Her fingers itch to grip something other than her charcoal, and she takes a slow breath in as she turns away and goes to check on her students. 

By the time she returns to her easel, she feels ready to combust from the effort of not stalking across the room and taking the younger woman right there on the chair. She snaps two sticks of charcoal before she's able to focus enough to actually draw, and even then her movements are considerably less sure than usual. Every time she looks at what she's drawing she wants to smudge it from the page for being such a failed approximation of Yennefer's beauty. Tissaia is talented by any standard, but she knows that there's not way she'll ever be able to do justice to the young woman sitting in front of her.

Still, there is time left in the class, and Tissaia has always been a glutton for punishment. She forces herself to keep looking, to keep trying, and the sketch gradually takes shape and becomes more and more lifelike. And as she settles into the rhythm of her work, she starts to notice little things. 

Like how Yennefer's tongue darts out to wet her lips when their eyes make brief, glancing contact. Or how the younger woman's breath hitches ever so slightly when Tissaia's eyes sweep over her body, the only tell in the lightning-quick expansion of her rib cage. It's intriguing, and doesn't fit with the narrative she's trying to tell herself about Yennefer being unaffected and uninterested, but she ruthlessly shoves the glimmer of hope down.

Tissaia is so engrossed in trying to recreate the delicate furrow in Yennefer's brow that she startles when the timer on her phone goes off, signalling the end of the class. 

"Thank you Yennefer," she says, fighting to remain where she is when the younger woman makes a show of stretching languidly before lowering her arms, watching Tissaia all the while. She turns to glance over the students as they gather their materials. "Don't forget we've got an extended session next week everyone. If you want to bring snacks that's fine, but remember that there's no eating in the studio."

By the time she looks back at Yennefer the model is fastening the tie on her robe, and Tissaia tries very hard to ignore the disappointment she feels. The younger woman walks to the changing room without so much as glancing back at Tissaia, and okay—that stings. But it's fine. She tries to tell herself that she knew Yennefer was only doing the gig to be professional, and that she knew there was zero interest in anything more on the younger woman's part, but for just a few moments she'd let herself dream that maybe the way that Yennefer had stared at her wasn't just a ploy to rile her up.

She walks around the studio tidying everything up while she waits for Yennefer to come back out. There's a two-hour break before the next class starts, and she can't lock up and leave until everyone is gone.

When she's gone over everything twice and there's still no sign of Yennefer, Tissaia frowns and goes over to the door. She hesitates when she raises her hand to knock, not wanting to be rude. But she wants to make sure that the model is okay, at least, and that she doesn't need anything. 

Her knuckles rap against the wood, and the door swings open almost immediately. Tissaia is surprised to see Yennefer standing there still in the silk floral robe, and she opens her mouth to ask if everything is all right, but before she can gets the words out a hand fists in the front of her shirt and yanks her forward. Tissaia barely has time to think  _ oh _ and then Yennefer's mouth is on hers, hot and needy as their bodies crash together. She kisses back before her mind can even fully process what's happening, but she's so primed after the past hour that her body doesn't hesitate.

Yennefer is making the most delicious little mewls into her mouth, and Tissaia slides her hands over the smooth silk of the robe to pull the younger woman closer. She walks them both further back into the room until she can kick the door shut, not wanting to be out in the open just in case a stray student wanders in. 

It takes everything in her to pull away, and the younger woman whines at the loss of contact.

"Are you sure?" Tissaia asks, her voice low and rough. "I don't want—"

Yennefer silences her with another kiss, using her grip on Tissaia's shirt to drag the smaller woman back in. "I need you to touch me," she pants against Tissaia's lips, " _ God _ , Tissaia, please." 

Tissaia nods, kissing the younger woman deeply to soothe her, her fingers playing with the tie on the robe before slipping her hands inside. "Okay," she breathes. The desperate, begging woman in front of her is the exact opposite of the unaffected person she'd imagined during the class, and it's thrilling to see that the younger woman is not immune to the arousal thundering through Tissaia's veins.

She slides the robe from Yennefer's shoulders and inhales sharply at the sight of the younger woman naked in front of her, knowing that she's allowed to touch this time. Her fingers skate across the exposed skin before one hand settles in the small of Yennefer's back to pull her closer, the other resting against the nape of her neck to tug her back down for another kiss. Even with her shoes on and the younger woman barefoot, Tissaia is still shorter by several inches, and she has to lean up on the balls of her feet to get a good angle. 

She pushes forward until Yennefer takes a step back, and then another, until she bumps into the edge of the drafting table tucked along the wall. Tissaia begins to kiss down the younger woman's body, biting at the hollow of her neck and savoring the tiny cry she gets in response. She wishes there was time for her to do this properly, to map every inch of the woman's body with her mouth the way she'd fantasized about during class, but she knows this isn't the time or place. The thought that she hopes there  _ will _ be a time and place for that flits across her brain before she hastily banishes it, refocusing on the delectable skin beneath her lips.

Tissaia mouths at one breast and a hand flies into her hair, holding her in place as Yennefer arches against her in search of more. The younger woman lets out a groan that reverberates through Tissaia's whole body when she captures a nipple in between her teeth, tugging lightly before soothing the sting with her tongue. She can't get enough of the gasps and noises that Yennefer is making, and Tissaia trails her hands down the woman's sides as she drops to her knees in front of her.

She looks up and finds Yennefer staring down at her, pupils completely blown with arousal, and she shivers. Everything about this is a stark departure from how she usually functions—she's going down on a woman in her  _ classroom _ , for god's sake—but she's loving every second of it. When Yennefer whines a little, unhappy with the pause, Tissaia gives her a soft smile and leans in to press an apologetic kiss to her thigh.

"Lean back, darling," she murmurs, nudging Yennefer's hips with her hand until the younger woman shifts her weight back against the drafting table. It's at a rather convenient angle for what they're doing, and Tissaia feels a split second of guilt for defiling it before she's distracted by the sight of Yennefer's core in front of her. 

She spreads the younger woman with one hand and groans. "You're so wet," she whispers, tongue flicking out to taste. 

"All—ah—all for you," Yennefer pants. Her hips buck as she seeks more friction, and Tissaia brings a hand under the woman's thigh, urging her to lift it until it's draped over her shoulder. The change in position opens Yennefer up to her even more, and Tissaia doesn't hesitate to take advantage. Her tongue flattens against the younger woman's clit, applying steady pressure as she traces two fingers through her folds until they're shiny and slick with her arousal. She presses them just barely inside, and she means to pull back and tease Yennefer a bit longer, but then the younger woman grinds down and her fingers slide further inside and it's  _ divine _ . 

"Impatient," Tissaia growls, pulling back from Yennefer's clit to nip at her leg, but she starts moving her fingers anyways. She sets a slow pace to start with, deep thrusts that leave the younger woman gasping for air, and she feels a hand fall to the back of her head. It twines in her hair, pulling strands free from the braid as Yennefer's grip tightens with every movement of Tissaia's fingers and tongue. 

The sensation of nails scratching along her scalp has Tissaia humming into Yennefer's core, and she lets the hand that's not currently occupied come down to press against her own clit through the material of her pants. She doesn't have the capacity to do anything more than that, but the pressure is enough for her to grind down against and get some relief from the pounding desire. 

Tissaia picks up the pace of her fingers inside Yennefer and wraps her lips around her clit, sucking greedily in a way that has the younger woman keening above her.

"So close," Yennefer gasps out, and the words spur Tissaia on. She adds a third finger without slowing her pace and flutters her tongue against the younger woman's clit as she sucks. Yennefer goes perfectly still for a second and then her body curves in on itself as she comes with a wordless shout, velvet heat rippling around Tissaia's fingers. 

Tissaia groans into Yennefer's cunt, the sight and feel of the woman coming apart enough to tip her into a small orgasm of her own as she ruts against her hand. She manages to keep moving though, fixated on drawing out the younger woman's pleasure for as long as possible. After a few seconds, the hand in her hair pulls, urging her upwards and into a messy kiss that leaves her breathless. 

"Go out with me." The words are murmured against her lips, and Tissaia starts. Of all the things that she expected to come out of Yennefer's mouth, that was not even an option on the list. But the younger woman is looking at her with undisguised hope, biting her lip in a way that is sinfully distracting, and Tissaia nods slowly. 

"When?"

Yennefer looks almost surprised by her easy agreement, but she recovers quickly. "Tonight? Dinner?"

"I'm free after seven," Tissaia replies. The younger woman smiles and holds out a hand. 

"Let me see your phone." Tissaia hands it over after unlocking the screen and watches as Yennefer dials a number. She can hear a faint vibrate from somewhere in the room—probably where the model's clothes are neatly folded by her bag—and Yennefer ends the call with a smile. "I'll text you the details." 

She sets Tissaia's phone down and returns to give her a final kiss. This one is softer and sweeter, still full of longing but without the frantic energy that's been present up till now. When Yennefer pulls away, she gives Tissaia a brilliant smile before turning to get her clothes.

Tissaia exhales slowly and—in spite of what they're just been doing—she averts her eyes as Yennefer pulls her clothes on. It feels like a strangely intimate thing, to watch her dress, even after spending the better part of an hour staring at her naked body.

When Yennefer is fully dressed, she grabs her bag and follows Tissaia out of the room and then through the larger door separating the classroom from the hallway. Tissaia turns the key in the lock and they walk outside together, pausing on the stoop.

"I'm over there—"

"I'm going that way—"

Yennefer chuckles when they point in opposite directions and scuffs her shoe on the pavement before looking back up to meet Tissaia's eyes.

"I guess this is goodbye for now," she says with a small smile. Tissaia nods, and on impulse she leans over and presses a kiss to Yennefer's cheek. She feels the sharp intake of breath from the younger woman and can't help the pleased, coy smile that spreads across her lips when she pulls back.

"Until tonight."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go, and it will be from Yen's perspective this time :) thanks as always to everyone who reads, leaves kudos, and comments!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yennefer's perspective on things beginning with that night in the club...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. To send off the flash fic challenge in style I decided to...write almost 8k of smut? I guess? Lol nothing to ease me back into longer works like sitting down to write what I thought would be a relatively short final chapter and watching the word count balloon. 
> 
> Anyways, hope you all enjoy! :)

"Looks like you've got an admirer."

"What are you talking about?" Yennefer looks over at Sabrina, who raises her eyebrows and nods in the direction of the bar. As subtly as she can, Yenenfer twists so that she can scan the area for whoever Sabrina is referring to. It feels like time freezes when she sees the woman Sabrina is talking about, and she's pretty sure her jaw hits the floor.

_ Oh fuck _ .

The woman sitting at the bar is clearly staring at her, which is not necessarily surprising in and of itself; Yennefer knows she's attractive, and she's used to admirers.

What she is decidedly  _ not _ used to, however, is said admirers looking like a fucking goddess dropped into modern times. The woman has cheekbones for days and a jawline sharp enough to cut glass, and Yennefer is already itching to trace it with her tongue. Brunette hair is swept up into a knot and pinned at the base of the woman's skull with just a few strands loose and framing her face, leaving the creamy skin of her neck on full display. 

Yennefer's eyes skate down the woman's body, taking in the way the silky burgundy top flows over the curves of the woman's breasts, how dark jeans showcase slender legs that end in heeled ankle boots. She's drooling, she knows she is, but she can't help it.

"Earth to Yennefer!"

She's jolted from her admiring by fingers snapping next to her head. She turns and glares at Sabrina, but the blonde just rolls her eyes. "Of  _ course _ you would have a thing for fucking cougars." Yennefer scowls. The woman at the bar is definitely older than her, but she looks late 30's, if that. Before she can say anything to defend the brunette's honor (and her impeccable taste in women), Sabrina continues, "Can you quit eye-fucking her, at least? It's nauseating."

"Please," Yennefer scoffs, "I've been watching you and Triss grope each other all night, I'm sure you'll survive." She glances back at the bar and sees an attractive blonde talking to the woman.

_ Shit _ .

"On that note," she says, standing up and patting her pockets to make sure she's got everything, "I'm going to leave you lovebirds to it. Try not to fuck each other in public!"

Triss goes a little pink and squeaks, but Sabrina just smirks and lifts an eyebrow. "I should say the same to you."

Yennefer leaves their table without a backward glance, too focused on getting to the woman at the bar. The blonde that was standing beside her has disappeared, and Yennefer slides in just behind her and places a hand at the small of her back. The heat of the woman's skin bleeds through the thin material of her shirt, warming the palm of Yennefer's hand, and she fights to remember how to talk when the woman turns to look at her.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

Now that she's closer, she's trapped in the glow of blue eyes under the club lights as the woman looks her up and down but doesn't say anything. It makes Yennefer bolder, though, to see the desire plainly written across the other woman's face, and she decides to try a different tack.

"Or perhaps a dance, instead?"

The woman nods, and Yennefer cheers internally as she takes her by the hand and leads her out onto the dance floor. She's struck by how  _ small  _ the brunette is as they begin to dance, and there's just a split second of hesitation where the woman freezes with what looks like an adorably nervous expression on her face. Yennefer slides her hands around to the woman's hips and spins her so that she can press herself along the length of her back, guiding her into a rhythm that follows the bass thumping through her veins.

That seems to be all it takes to ease whatever momentary anxiety had plagued the smaller woman, because she picks up the dance effortlessly, grinding back against Yennefer in a way that makes her breath come in harsh pants.  _ Fuck _ , she's barely even touched the stranger but she already feels like she could combust. 

One of her hands slips around to the woman's stomach and Yennefer groans as her fingers brush against hot skin. She can't resist swiping her thumb across the smooth flesh once, twice—and then the song shifts and the smaller woman is arching back into her. It's the sexiest thing she's ever seen, and without thinking about it Yennefer lets her head fall forward, her lips just barely brushing against the pale skin of the woman's neck. 

She freezes when she realizes what she's doing, worried that she's being overly forward, but the brunette reaches up and tangles a hand in her hair and pulls her  closer . Yennefer's moan is probably audible, but she doesn't care. This is the hottest thing that's ever happened to her in her life, and she scrapes her teeth over the muscle between the woman's neck and shoulder. She feels a whine vibrate the skin under her mouth as she soothes the bite with her tongue, the hand in her hair tightening just enough to cause a pleasant sting. 

Every single one of her senses is filled with the woman in front of her—the press of her curves, the salt of her skin, the heady scent of the woman's perfume. She's debating just how far she can push this while they're still on the dance floor when the woman catches her by surprise, spinning in her arms so that they're face to face. Yennefer gets a glimpse of blue eyes that have gone completely black with desire before the woman lunges forward and kisses her hard. 

Her body is so primed and ready that Yennefer doesn't even have to think before she's kissing back, bringing her hands up to pull the smaller woman closer. The woman's mouth opens for her instantly, and Yennefer thinks she could die happy as she licks her way inside, curling her tongue and delighting in the tremor she feels race through the other woman's body.

Except then small hands are palming her ass, squeezing in a way that makes her hips stutter down, and  _ fuck _ the woman managed to slip a leg between Yennefer's thighs at some point so there's just  _ barely _ a hint of pressure, and she thinks she's going to take the woman right here in front of everybody if she doesn't get them somewhere else  _ now _ .

Using every remaining shred of her self control, Yennefer pulls back just far enough to murmur, "Come with me," against the woman's lips, and she sees a flash of a smirk play at the corner of the woman's mouth at her word choice. It makes her heart pick up speed because it's not like she  _ didn't _ mean the innuendo, but the thought of getting to see the woman come—yeah, okay, they need to get off the dance floor before she loses the ability to ever tease Sabrina for being an exhibitionist again.

Yennefer tugs the woman out the back entrance of the club and thanks every deity she can think of when there's nobody standing round smoking or chatting outside. She scans the area just to be sure before ducking into the small side alley and yanking the brunette after her, immediately pressing the smaller woman back against the brick wall. It feels like she'll die if she doesn't get to touch every inch of the woman's body, and from the keening sound the brunette is making she thinks the feeling is mutual.

The smaller woman takes her hands and leads them up, up, up until Yennefer is palming her breasts. She can feel the woman's nipples pebbling under her touch, and she pinches at them through the fabric of her shirt as she drops her head to nip at the brunette's neck. All of the air leaves her lungs on a moan when she feels a strong thigh nudge its way between her legs again, pushing up against her as hands come to rest on her waist.

Two can play at that game, though, and Yennefer quickly finds the button on the woman's jeans. She pauses before she undoes it, wanting to check one more time. They're in an alley where anyone could see them, after all, and the brunette does  _ not _ look like the type of woman who would normally agree to public sex.

"Can I touch you?"

Before she's even finished asking, the smaller woman is nodding, murmuring, "Please," and it only takes a moment before Yennefer has her hand shoved down the front of the woman's pants. For a few seconds she keeps her touch light and teasing, but the woman is practically dripping for her, and when she presses harder along her clit it earns her a breathy moan that she absolutely needs to hear more of.

"Inside," the woman gasps, and Yennefer is all too happy to oblige. Two fingers slip inside with no resistance, and she can already feel slick heat rippling and clenching around them. She starts a slow rhythm and almost loses it when she feels hands gripping her ass and encouraging her to slide along the smaller woman's leg, but she manages to keep it together even as she adds a third finger.

Her body feels like it's strung tight and about to explode, and she can't stop the needy whine that escapes her chest when one of the other woman's hands steals up to knead at her breast. She's already embarrassingly close, but she forces herself to hold off just a little longer. She wants more than anything to see the brunette come for her, and she twists her hand just enough that her palm rubs against the smaller woman's clit with every thrust of her fingers.

There's very little warning before the brunette shudders against her, inner walls fluttering wildly around Yennefer's fingers. The woman's head is tipped back against the brick wall, and she looks ethereal in the faint neon glow from the bar's exit sign as her mouth drops open. 

All of it hits Yennefer at once—the dancing, how stunning the woman looks, the way she can still feel the aftershocks coursing through the brunette—and she lets her head fall forward to bite at the woman's shoulder to muffle her own cry. With a few shaky jerks of her hips on the brunette's thigh (which is still blessedly being held steady against her core), Yennefer tips over the edge into a mind-numbing orgasm. 

She's pretty sure she forgets how to breathe for a few seconds as pleasure whites out her vision, but as she comes back to herself she lifts her head and sees the brunette watching her with a mildly panicked expression. And that just won't do, Yennefer just wants to make the other woman feel good and stop worrying so much, so she kisses her with as much of that emotion as she can. It's not demanding the way their earlier kisses were, and Yennefer has a brief thought of  _ Oh fuck, I could really fall for her _ before she pulls away.

The smaller woman looks absolutely debauched, lips red and kiss-swollen and a bruise already blooming across her neck. She's looking at Yennefer hungrily, and she's just opening her mouth to say something when they both hear the sound of the bar's door opening. 

They jump apart, Yennefer moving to try to stand in front of the brunette to give her an extra few seconds before they're discovered, and she has to fight not to glare at the bouncer who comes around the corner. 

"Do either of you know a Triss or Sabrina?"

Yennefer's stomach drops and she nods. "Yeah. What of it?" She is already certain that her friends (really just Sabrina, if she's being honest) have managed to get into trouble—it's just a matter of how much and whether it's something she can fix.

The bouncer looks nervous and scratches at the back of his neck, not meeting her eyes when he replies, "Uh, there's been a bit of an incident inside. Can you come with me?"

And everything in Yennefer is screaming at her to stay with the gorgeous brunette stranger she's just had the most incredible sex of her life with, but when she turns the smaller woman is already waving at her to go. She can't stand the thought of their night ending here (much less of never seeing the woman again), so she looks at the other woman pleadingly and says, "Wait here. I'll be right back, I swear."

The brunette nods and Yennefer follows the bouncer as he heads back into the bar. She casts a final longing glance over her shoulder and her heart clenches painfully at the sight of the woman standing alone in the moonlight before the door shuts behind them.

The bouncer leads her across the bar and into a smaller office in the back. She's starting to get worried when the door swings open to reveal Triss sitting and looking very sad and apologetic, and Sabrina holding an ice pack on one hand.

"What happened?" Yen asks, looking between her friends and the bouncer.

"Some asshole spilled his drink on Triss and wouldn't apologize," Sabrina grumbles, and Yennefer's eyes close briefly with frustration as she fills in the rest of the story. 

"And what—you punched him?" she asks incredulously. Sabrina shrugs and looks unrepentant, and the bouncer clears his throat.

"There are some forms that I need to be filled out, and then they'll need to be escorted off the premises by a third party."

"Meaning me," Yennefer sighs, and Triss nods and looks at her hopefully. 

"I'm sorry Yenna," she says, "You were the only one we could think of, and since you were here..."

Yennefer pinches the bridge of her nose and groans under her breath. "Fine," she replies, "Let's get this over with."

It takes longer than she thinks it should to get everything sorted, and she keeps looking at the clock hanging on the wall as the minutes slowly tick by. By the time she makes it out of the office she's nearly dragging Triss and Sabrina behind her, bundling them into a Lyft and slamming the door behind them. 

The window rolls down and Sabrina yells, "Where are you going?" as Yennefer turns and jogs back towards the club, but she doesn't bother responding. She weaves through the people still packed inside and runs down the hallway leading to the back exit, but when she throws the door open she's greeted with silence. 

There's no sign of the mystery woman, and Yennefer slumps against the wall in defeat. She didn't even get the brunette's name, and there is literally nothing for her to go on to try to track the woman down. 

It feels like some sort of cosmic joke for the universe to give her a glimpse of the most perfect woman in all of existence and then yank her away, and Yennefer sighs as she heads back into the club to do a cursory scan of the patrons. She doesn't see the brunette anywhere, and after a few minutes she gives up and leaves.

Even though their whole encounter lasted maybe a grand total of an hour, Yennefer feels as if she's lost something terribly important. She throws herself into her bed when she gets back to her flat without bothering to take her clothes off, and when she falls asleep, piercing blue eyes haunt her dreams.

###

Her morning is a disaster. She wakes up at ten, checks her phone, then rolls over to sleep for another twenty minutes....only to wake up just after noon to a dead phone and bright light streaming through her window. She nearly falls out of bed in her haste to get moving, and she curses under her breath when she can't find any clean clothes. Not that she'll be wearing them for long—she's modeling for a figure class at one, so she'll be able to take the clothes off as soon as she gets there. 

Unfortunately, she can't get on the train naked, so she digs around in the pile of clothes on the floor until she finds a jumper that's clean enough to pass the sniff test. She throws it on over a pair of black leggings, grabs her bag, and sprints out the door with her phone at 7% battery.

It takes her even longer than expected to get to the building where the class is being held, and she hears the telltale buzz of her phone in her bag as she skids through the doors. Knowing it's probably the agency calling to berate her for being late (and whoever the teacher is must have ratted her out), she's not looking at where she's going when she blows into the classroom.

"Sorry, I'm so sorry for being late," she says, still hunting for her phone to silence it. She glares at the screen when she sees Sabrina's name displayed, although she supposes that's better than it being the agency. She rather likes this job, thank you very much, and would rather not lose it if possible.

There's been no response to any of the words tumbling out of her mouth, and Yennefer finally looks up—and promptly locks eyes with the woman from the night before.

Her mouth drops as she does a double-take, but no—it's the same woman. Her hair is in a loose braid down her back, and she's got glasses on now, but it's undeniably  _ her _ . Yennefer starts to say something, but the woman cuts her off with a sharp look.

"There's a room you can change in through that door over there. I'll check with you in a moment to make sure you're set before we begin."

She knows a dismissal when she hears one, but she's willing to go along with it for the moment. With a final glance at the brunette, Yennefer turns and practically skips into the dressing room. 

The universe loves her.

###

Ten minutes later, Yennefer is not so sure that the universe loves her after all. Because even though the brunette— _ Tissaia _ , she knows now, and what a perfect name it is—is within arm's reach, she's also completely closed off. Gone is the wanton woman from the night before; now she's carefully contained, saying things like, "Let's just keep this professional," and Yennefer is nodding along and agreeing because it's not like she can admit that she'd much rather bend the smaller woman over the desk in the room and fuck her until she screams.

She knows it's got something to do with the situation they're in, of course. It's not ideal to run into a hookup from the previous night in a professional context, but perhaps doubly so when said context involves being naked for an extended period of time. But she thinks there's more to Tissaia's sudden reticence, and she is almost certain that it's because of the fact that she unintentionally abandoned the smaller woman the night before. 

She wants to explain, wants to grab Tissaia and tell her that she tried to come back to look for her, wants to tell her about the chasm that felt like it opened in her heart when she saw the empty alley. This isn't the time for it, though, and so she follows the smaller woman out into the classroom and takes her place in the center of the room.

Yennefer undoes the tie of her robe and lets it slide from her shoulders. Her back is to Tissaia, but she imagines she can feel the other woman's eyes on her like a physical caress.

When the smaller woman calls for warm-up poses, Yennefer tries to settle in and tells herself to keep it together. During one of the poses, however, she catches a glimpse of Tissaia watching her, eyes skittering across her body like she's scared to be caught looking, and hope blooms in her chest. Maybe there's still hope.

Tissaia asks for a seated pose, and Yennefer grabs the chair and on impulse straddles it and rests her arms on the back so that she's staring straight at the brunette. She sees the way that Tissaia swallows hard as their eyes meet for the briefest of seconds, and she barely holds back a smirk. 

_ Maybe not so strictly professional after all. _

She watches as Tissaia begins sketching, and it gives her a chance to observe the smaller woman. The brunette looks every bit as beautiful as the night before even in more casual attire. The top two buttons of her white blouse are undone and the sleeves are rolled to the elbows, giving Yennefer an unobstructed view of the way the muscles in her forearms flex as she draws in sweeping strokes. She's wearing a silk scarf, and Yennefer feels just a bit smug knowing that there's an approximately 99% chance that it's because of the marks she left on the other woman the night before.

Beyond the more obvious physical beauty, though, Yennefer finds herself just as entranced by the little details. Tissaia's nose crinkles when her eyes flit between her easel and Yennefer's body, and there's a faint smudge of charcoal along the outside of her wrist from where she unintentionally dragged it across one of her sketches. All of the feelings from the night before are back tenfold, and she's almost grateful when Tissaia leaves to walk around the room and check on her students. It gives her a chance to breathe, to collect herself. 

She looks over at the clock and guesses that there's time left for one more pose. A plan is forming in her mind for how she can use this to her advantage; after all, this might be her one chance to try to win Tissaia back over, and for once it's completely socially acceptable for her to be naked while doing so. She'd have to be a fool not to maximize her assets.

Those thoughts, paired with the memory of the ache in her chest the night before when she'd lost Tissaia, are the only explanation for the pose she selects when the brunette prompts her. She rotates the chair so that it's facing Tissaia and sits back down, spreading her legs and stretching her arms above her head before locking her hands there as she leans back. It's a wildly impractical position, and she's sure she'll have sore shoulders for the next two days at least, but it also means that every inch of her is on full display for the brunette's eyes to feast on. She preens a little when she sees the way Tissaia's eyes darken, and she fights back a shiver at the intense scrutiny.

Unfortunately, her smugness rapidly fades into dismay as she realizes that she didn't think this plan all the way through. Because while yes, this is torturing Tissaia, it is also torturing her. Every time Tissaia looks at her, blue eyes hungry and wanting, it feels like it spirals her own arousal even higher. She can feel herself getting wetter and wetter as the minutes drag on, every glance Tissaia throws her way turning her into more of a mess. The thought crosses her mind that if Tissaia looked closely enough she could probably see exactly what this is doing to her, and it takes a herculean effort not to press her legs together in search of some sort of relief.

She feels like she's waking from a dream when the alarm on Tissaia's phone goes off, and she hurries to pull her robe on. Her legs are wobbly as she stands up, but she forces herself to walk over to the dressing room as quickly as she can. As soon as the door shuts behind her she leans against the wall and tries to catch her breath. It feels like every inch of her body is on fire, and she prays to any deity that will listen that her little display was enough to motivate Tissaia to come find her.

The minutes drag on and Yennefer is just beginning to wonder whether she should give up when there's a knock at the door. She leaps to open it, and as soon as she sees Tissaia standing there (and an empty classroom behind her), she wastes no time in yanking the smaller woman forward into a kiss.

Tissaia kisses her back immediately, and Yennefer whines into her mouth as hands run over her body. The only thoughts in her brain are all revolving around  _ more _ —more kissing, more touching, more of  _ Tissaia _ . She feels a burst of panic when Tissaia pulls away, and she tries to chase after the woman's lips until a firm hand on her sternum stops her.

"Are you sure?" Tissaia asks. "I don't want—"

"Yes," Yennefer gasps out, surging forward to kiss Tissaia again, "I need you to touch me, god, Tissaia,  _ please _ ."

The desperation in her voice must be convincing enough for the smaller woman, because all of a sudden there's no hesitancy in her touch. Yennefer mewls as firm hands slide under her robe, smoothing over the bare skin beneath it before pulling her closer. Tissaia is kissing her, shushing her gently as she undoes the tie on the robe and slips it from Yennefer's shoulders, letting it pool on the ground as she walks them backwards. 

Cool wood presses into her lower back, and Yennefer leans against it as Tissaia nips at her neck, sucking gently before scraping her teeth over the sensitive flesh. An almost inhuman groan rumbles out of her chest when the smaller woman ducks her head and takes a nipple into her mouth, laving it with her tongue again and again until Yennefer is crying out and tangling her hands in soft brown locks to hold the woman there. The tension in her stomach is coiling tighter and tighter, and she almost loses it all together when Tissaia drops to her knees in front of her. 

The brunette's expression is somewhere between awe and hunger, and Yennefer barely has any time to prepare herself before a talented tongue is licking against her heated flesh, fingers pressing at her entrance but not dipping the rest of the way inside. She grinds down, desperate to be filled, and she moans low in her throat when she's able to get them inside up to the second knuckle.

"Impatient," Tissia murmurs, nipping at her thigh, but then she's moving and it's everything Yenenfer needs and still somehow not enough. She wants this moment to stretch on forever, wants to savor the delicious stretch as Tissaia adds a third finger, but she's already close. She's almost embarrassed at how quickly she's going to come, but she thinks that after what was essentially an hour of foreplay she can be forgiven. 

The final straw comes when she looks down and catches a glimpse of Tissaia with her own hand between her thighs, touching herself as she brings Yennefer to the brink. Lips wrap around her clit and suck, and Yennefer is gone, orgasm crashing over her as she comes so hard she sees stars. She's dimly aware of Tissaia shuddering against her and the knowledge that the smaller woman got herself off while touching her sends another round of tremors through her body. 

As soon as she's capable of movement, Yennefer reaches down and urges Tissaia up and into a sweet, messy kiss. She can taste herself on the other woman's mouth, and she hums, pulling her closer for a moment before she leans back just enough to murmur, "Go out with me," against Tissaia's lips. She feels the smaller woman stiffen and starts mentally preparing to make her case for why Tissaia should give her a second chance, but then Tissaia nods and just asks, "When?"

Yennefer blinks. That was...unexpectedly easy. But she can work with this. "Tonight? Dinner?" She doesn't want to waste any time; not with Tissaia. If it were more socially acceptable she would probably suggest they just go now, but she figures it will be good for both of them to have a chance to clean up and have a little time to themselves after the turn their afternoon has taken.

She gives Tissaia her number with a promise to text her the details, and she's debating whether it's allowable to lean over and kiss her goodbye when the brunette makes the decision for her. Yennefer's breath catches as Tissaia presses a kiss to her cheek, lips just brushing the corner of her mouth, before pulling away. It's so stupid for such a small thing to get her so worked up ( _ especially  _ after what they've just been doing) but the gesture is so sweet and unexpected that it renders her nearly speechless.

They part ways, and Yennefer makes it two blocks towards the train station when before stopping dead in her tracks. She's just realized that she's essentially offered to plan a date for them. For tonight, which is only a few hours away. And she has absolutely  _ no idea _ what one does when they're trying to be romantic and woo their future wife. 

_ Fuck _ , she's going to need some help.

###

Yennefer checks her watch as she shifts nervously outside the restaurant. She'd gotten there nearly twenty minutes early just to be safe. After her track record with not showing up on time (or at all), she doesn't want there to be any chance that she might miss Tissaia or leave the other woman waiting.

She smooths her hands over her outfit, hoping she looks all right. The restaurant she's chosen is fairly casual, but she still hadn't wanted to show up looking like she just threw on whatever (even though that was exactly what she'd done before the art class, and clearly it hadn't dissuaded Tissaia in the slightest). She'd tried on half her closet and done a hasty run to the laundromat to make sure everything was clean before finally settling on a black sweater that's a little large on her. Paired with white skinny jeans and brown ankle boots she thinks it's a solid choice for a "technically but not really first date" outfit, and she hopes Tissaia likes it.

Triss has helped her with the overall plan for the night, recommending the restaurant and talking Yen off the ledge each time she starts to panic. She’d given her seal of approval to the outfit (outweighing Sabrina’s vote, which was that it didn’t show enough tits), and the knowledge that Triss doesn’t think this is going to be a total disaster of a night is helpful. Yennefer has never done this before, and she doesn’t want to fuck it up just because she’s better at seduction than romance.

The sound of heels clicking down the pavement draws Yennefer’s attention and she promptly forgets how to breathe as she sees Tissaia walking towards her. She'd told the brunette to dress casually, but apparently even in casual attire Tissaia looks like a movie star. Her hair is down and loose around her shoulders in gentle waves, and she's got a chambray shirt with the top three buttons undone tucked into black jeans. Yennefer's heart skips a beat when she sees a hint of black lace peeking out of the "v" formed by the undone buttons, and she forcibly drags her eyes back up to meet Tissaia's.

"Hi!" she squeaks, aiming for cool and falling miserably short. Tissaia gives her a knowing look and leans in to kiss her on the cheek.

"You look incredible, darling," she murmurs, eyes raking up and down the younger woman's body. 

"You too," Yennefer manages. She takes a deep breath and tries not to panic. It's not lost on her how their dynamic from the night before has reversed, with Tissaia eyeing her like a predator hunting its prey. The older woman's confidence is intoxicating, and Yennefer wonders for a moment whether that assertive energy ever makes its way into the bedroom.

Shaking her head to clear it, Yennefer offers her arm to Tissaia. "Shall we?"

She leads the smaller woman inside and gives her name for their reservation. They're shown back to a small corner booth at the back of the restaurant, with two candles already burning lazily on the tabletop. Because of how the table is situated, they end up sitting side by side in the corner section, and Yennefer isn't sure whether to be pleased or terrified at the thought of being so close to Tissaia for an extended duration.

They order drinks, and then there's a brief silence before Yennefer turns to face the smaller woman.

"Can I explain? About last night, I mean."

For the first time since Tissaia walked up she sees a flicker of insecurity race across her face almost too fast to track, and it makes her heart ache that she's the cause. Tissaia nods reluctantly, and Yennefer bites her lip as she tries to think of the best way to detail the events that prevented her from keeping her promise that she'd be right back.

Finally, she settles on, "My friend punched a guy in the face because he spilled his drink on her girlfriend, and the management decided they needed to be escorted from the club by a third party to prevent them from getting into any more trouble."

Tissaia's eyebrows raise as she takes in the words. "Third party meaning you, I take it," she says wryly, and Yennefer sighs.

"Yeah. I'm so sorry, I tried to come back as quickly as I could, but the whole thing took longer than I was expecting it to, and then by the time I went back you were gone." She looks down at the table, hoping the explanation is sufficient. "I looked for you in the club but I didn't even know your name."

"Well," Tissaia says quietly after a short pause, "I suppose that's a very reasonable reason to have been delayed." She hesitates before continuing, "I honestly thought you had just decided you weren't interested in me once the heat of the moment was over."

Yennefer's jaw drops open and her eyes snap up to meet Tissaia's incredulously. "Are you kidding?"

Tissaia just lifts one shoulder before letting it fall in a half-shrug. "You're young, and the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen in my life. And I'm....not that." She laughs self-deprecatingly, but Yennefer frowns and reaches out to brush her thumb across the back of Tissaia's knuckles. 

"Tissaia, believe me when I say that you are all of that and more," she says seriously. She's not sure what or who could possibly have made the smaller woman think she's anything but stunning, but she fully intends to do everything in her power to convince Tissaia that her self assessment is entirely, objectively wrong. "If it wouldn't have meant throwing away over a decade of friendship, I would have left them there in a heartbeat if it meant I could have gone back to you sooner."

There's still a hint of disbelief on Tissaia's face, but she accepts the words with a low hum and turns her attention to the menu. "So, what's good here?"

Part of Yennefer doesn't want to let the conversation drop until she's proven beyond any doubt to Tissaia that she wants her more than anything or anyone else in her entire life. But she can read the slight discomfort in the smaller woman's posture, and she decides to come back to this later and give her this brief reprieve.

"I'm partial to the tapas," she replies, and she knows she's made the right choice when Tissaia relaxes into the seat next to her. 

The next hour passes in a haze of conversation and food. She learns that Tissaia teaches art and has a private studio that she does commissions out of, and she didn't think it was possible to be even more attracted to the woman but the longer she listens to her talk the more convinced she is that Tissaia is literally perfection. 

As the evening progresses, little touches grow between them—a brush of fingers as they pass a dish, thighs bumping against one another under the table, the quick press of their shoulders when one of them leans in. It's driving Yennefer wild, and she almost crawls out of her skin when Tissaia's hand lands on her upper thigh just before they order dessert. She looks down at it to reassure herself that it's actually there, and then glances over at Tissaia. The brunette is very focused on the dessert menu, and she looks over at Yennefer questioningly.

"Do you have a preference?"

Yennefer just shakes her head mutely as Tissaia proceeds to order something for them to share. She's starting to relax when a thumb swipes across her leg, applying just enough pressure to her inner thigh that it elicits a choked gasp from her. 

"Are you all right, dear?" Tissaia is watching her carefully, and Yennefer knows that if she says no that the other woman will stop whatever game she's playing with no complaints. But she's curious about exactly where this might go, and so she grits her teeth and nods.

"Never better." The smile Tissaia sends her in return is positively devious, and Yennefer wonders what she's just gotten herself into.

They keep talking while they wait for their dessert to arrive, and just as the waiter approaches Yennefer freezes when she feels fingers creeping higher up on her thigh, dipping inward to press against the seam of her jeans. She barely manages to hold back a moan at the sudden pressure as the waiter delivers the slice of cake with a flourish, and Tissaia thanks him before scooping a small bite onto her fork and holding it out to Yennefer. 

"Want to try?" 

It's entirely unfair how casual she looks, as if she doesn't have one hand currently tracing delicate circles against Yennefer's cunt under the table. Yennefer is having trouble thinking clearly at this point, so she settles for a strained nod and tries not to choke on the cake when she eats it. She's sure it's delicious, but truth be told she's not really even tasting it, too focused on the slightly faster pace Tissaia's fingers are setting. 

She makes the mistake of glancing over at Tissaia just in time to watch the smaller woman lick a bit of frosting from her fork, and the sight of her pink tongue curling around the tines has Yennefer's stomach doing flips. Her hands are digging into the soft leather of the bench they're sitting on as she does everything in her power not to react visibly to the fact that Tissaia is coming dangerously close to bringing her off in the middle of a very public restaurant.

"What do you imagine everyone would think, if they knew what was really going on over here?" The words are breathed against the shell of her ear as Tissaia leans over, and Yennefer bites her lip to contain a whimper. "Do you think they'd care? Or do you think they'd just be jealous that it's me fucking you and not them?"

The possessive tone is paired with a particularly firm press of her fingers, and it's just enough to tip Yennefer over the edge. She shudders silently, letting her head tip forward so that the curtain of her hair is covering her face as she clamps her thighs together under the table to prevent Tissaia from moving her hand. It takes a few seconds for her to catch her breath, and when she looks up she sees Tissaia watching her with dark eyes.

"Get the check." Yennefer barely recognizes her own voice, a little raspy and strained from the events of the last several minutes. Tissaia nods and slowly pulls her hand away, but not without letting her blunt nails drag a little harder than necessary along Yennefer's thigh. 

###

Afterward, Yennefer can't recall much of the details about how they get from the restaurant to Tissaia's apartment. What she  _ does _ remember is shoving the smaller woman back against the door as soon as they cross the threshold, pinning her there and kissing her hungrily.

Tissaia arches against her, hands pressing at her shoulders in an effort to get the younger woman even closer, and Yennefer wrenches herself away with a gasp. 

"Bedroom," she says, and Tissaia leads her down a short hall and through another door. The smaller woman pulls her into another kiss as they stumble towards the bed, and Yennefer nudges her until Tissaia falls backward onto the bed. She props herself up on her elbows and stares up at Yennefer, and the younger woman is reminded of their earlier conversation when she sees that same flash of insecurity in blue eyes. 

Her decision is made for her in an instant. This isn't going to be another quick fuck. No, she fully intends to worship every inch of Tissaia's body with the appreciation the woman deserves, and Yennefer kneels at the edge of the bed.

She starts at Tissaia's feet, carefully unbuckling the straps on her heels and letting them drop to the floor with a thump. Her hands smooth up the smaller woman's calves, running over her thighs before skipping up to the hem of her shirt. She maintains eye contact as she slowly undoes each button until the shirt falls open, revealing a lacy black bra that leaves gloriously little to the imagination.

Yennefer pauses for a few moments to lean down and press a line of kisses up the center of Tissaia's stomach until she can suck at the tender flesh in between her breasts. The brunette gasps and her hips buck up, but Yennefer presses her back down with infinite tenderness as she slips her fingers around to the smaller woman's back and undoes her bra. She slides the straps from Tissaia's shoulders and can't resist the urge to stare for a moment when the woman's chest is finally bare before her.

"So beautiful," she murmurs, ducking her head to briefly graze her teeth against a nipple before sliding further down. “I’m going to show you exactly how gorgeous I think you are.”

The button on Tissaia's jeans comes undone with a flick of her thumb, and she eases the woman's pants and underwear down her legs in a single motion. When she looks back up the bed, she sees Tissaia's eyes are shut and there's a faint frown on her face, and Yennefer shucks her own clothing off unceremoniously before crawling up to press a sweet kiss to her lips.

"Is this okay?" she asks softly, one hand stroking the smooth skin of the brunette's rib cage. It takes a moment for Tissaia to answer, but she bites her lip and nods slowly. 

"It's just...a lot," she whispers. 

Yennefer kisses her again, savoring the slide of their lips and the taste that she's already come to associate as being  _ Tissaia's _ , before pulling back. 

"Tell me if it gets to be too much," she says, and when Tissaia nods again, she continues her journey down the woman's body.

She spends long minutes exploring what Tissaia likes, the little patches of skin that make her hiss with pleasure when Yennefer scrapes her teeth over them, the spots that make her mewl and arch up in search of  _ more _ . It's too much and not enough, but Yennefer takes her time working Tissaia up. She hasn't gotten to truly  _ touch _ the other woman yet, and she doesn't want to rush this.

Eventually, though, Tissaia is twisting beneath her, and Yennefer can feel the need radiating from her.

"What do you need, love?" she asks, dipping her head to suckle at the brunette's hipbone. Tissaia keens, hips jumping at the sensation, and she pants out, "Touch me, Yen,  _ please. _ "

Yennefer can't deny the woman, and if she's being honest she's not sure she can deny herself either. Patience has never been her strong suit, and it's almost a relief when she finally lets her fingers drift down to dance through soaking folds. 

She groans at how wet Tissaia is, revels in the knowledge that it's all for her. Two fingers slip inside effortlessly, and she adds a third after the first few strokes. Tissaia is whining above her, matching her thrusts with her hips, and Yennefer lowers her mouth and wraps her lips around Tissaia's clit. She flutters her tongue against the nub and feels the immediate response in Tissaia's inner walls as they clench around her fingers. Keeping her fingers moving at a steady rhythm, she starts up a pattern with her tongue, tracing letters and words onto Tissaia's clit with the tip of her tongue until the smaller woman is writhing beneath her.

"Please," Tissaia gasps, one hand reaching down to tangle in Yennefer's hair, " _ Please _ , Yen, I need—"

The rest of her sentence is lost in a wordless shout as Yennefer sucks hard and curls her fingers, and her whole body arches off the bed as she comes. Yennefer thinks she's never seen anything more beautiful in her life than the sight of Tissaia completely letting go, and she keeps her fingers moving gently to work her through the aftershocks. 

When the smaller woman finally collapses back against the bed, completely spent, Yennefer places a final kiss to her inner thigh before shifting and crawling up the bed to wrap Tissaia in her arms. The brunette burrows into the embrace in a way that melts Yen's heart, and she presses a soft kiss to the crown of the other woman's head, letting her fingers trace soothing designs on her back.

After a few minutes, she feels lips pressing tender kisses to her chest. Tissaia looks up at her a second later and pushes herself up on one elbow so that she can kiss Yennefer properly, humming against her mouth.

"You," she murmurs, "have quite possibly ruined me for anyone else after that."

Yennefer's heart does a little flip at the admission, and she smiles down at Tissaia. "In that case, I suppose it's only fair that I start planning our next date straight away."

Tissaia kisses her again, but this time her hands come up to cup Yennefer's breasts, tweaking her nipples as her tongue slips into the younger woman's mouth.

"I think there's other business to take care of first," she says with a wicked smirk, and Yennefer can only laugh as the smaller woman rolls them over so that she's straddling Yennefer's hips.

She has the feeling this is the start of something beautiful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to the anon who sent the prompt in for art teacher!Tissaia and model!Yen, this fic would not have existed without you!
> 
> If you want to say hi/yell at me/tell me what you thought, feel free to do so in the comments or on tumblr @kapuahiwahiwa! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Okayyyy you've all got OPTIONS! The next chapter can either be the night from Yen's perspective, or we can jump straight to what happens next in the figure class. Comment if you've got a strong opinion lol, and thank you for reading! :)


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